


Reflections

by bonusvampirus (sein_Henker)



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sein_Henker/pseuds/bonusvampirus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Deb couldn't believe she was eating something Hannah McKay had offered her.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections

Title: Reflections  
Summary: “Deb couldn't believe she was eating something Hannah McKay had offered her.”  
Rating: M for detailed sexual references  
Word Count: 1040  
Other Chapters: No.   
Disclaimer: Showtime owns Dexter and all rellated trademarks. I do not in any way profit from the use of these trademarks.   
Pairings: Debra Morgan/Hannah McKay (sex), Debra Morgan/Dexter Morgan (potentially unrequited feelings)  
Contains: cunnilingus  
Warnings: references to murder, incest

~*~

Deb couldn't believe she was eating something Hannah McKay had offered her. Hannah McKay had poisoned her. She wanted Deb dead. She knew how Deb felt about Dexter and she could feel good about that. The last thing Deb needed was to be eating—

But she wouldn't have laced poison _here_ , would she? Deb should have insisted on a dental dam. She was new to this and she hadn't thought of it. She'd only heard of dental dams in her time in VICE. Sex ed had been pretty fucking basic at her school, and that had been good enough until now. 

This would be a Hell of a crime scene. Masuka would hate himself because he wouldn't _want_ to be disrespectful if they found her dead, but if they found her like this, he might not be able to help himself. And Quinn? Jesus. What would he think? Deb could picture the look on his face, but it was a look she'd never been able to read. Was he disgusted or sad or angry or—god damn Quinn. 

Was it even possible to kill someone this way? How? Mix it in with some kind of lotion or something? Two generations of homicide detectives and Deb had never heard of anything like that. It probably wasn't possible. Not without killing herself as well, anyway. It would have to kill her too, wouldn't it? Putting poison _there_... 

Would Hannah—no. Deb could believe that _Lila_ would get so desperate that she'd kill herself to take out her rival for Dexter's love, but not Hannah. Hannah McKay loved herself more than she loved Dexter. That was actually one of her best qualities. Maybe it was better that she wasn't a using a dental dam. No way you could put poison down there without it burning like Hell. A dental dam would be easy to poison. 

But Hannah's motives for offering had probably been transparent. Deb had once been the only straight girl on her softball team, but there was something about the sight of Hannah McKay in a towel, illuminated by the Miami sunrise, that Deb had felt deserved a little bit of attention. She could kill her boss in cold blood. Eating pussy was not worth an identity crisis, after that. Hannah just wanted pleasure, and Deb wanted to _give_ Hannah pleasure because... 

Deb wasn't even Hannah's rival for Dexter's affection, anyway. Deb's feelings... her fucking feelings, whatever their morality in this upside-down mess of a world, were not going to lead to anything. Dexter loved Hannah. Harrison was half-way to calling Hannah his fucking mommy. They were going to run away to South America together and be a nice happy family, and Deb would be the fun aunt who visited at Christmas and embarrassed herself because Harrison knew more Spanish than she did. They'd happily eat Christmas dinner, and Hannah wouldn't think of poisoning Deb because Hannah no longer had a motive to. Dexter loved Hannah. 

Deb loved Hannah _because_ Dexter loved Hannah. 

Dexter was in love with Hannah. 

Deb didn't know what being in love with someone _meant_ anymore. She had a track record of falling for serial killers though, didn't she? Or something. She'd been in love with Rudy Cooper, not Brian Moser. And Dexter... whatever she felt for Dexter, she knew it was fucked up and something that a lot of time with a good therapist could probably cure her of, if she could be honest with a therapist. (She would never find a therapist she could be completely honest with. Not now. She'd stopped going to therapy because she'd gotten sick of _lying_ every single week about what was going on in her head.) Hannah was just another in a long line of people Deb had fucked because they reminded her of Dexter. The only difference was that with Hannah, Deb could at least acknowledge it. Hannah's approval—Hannah's soft moans and Hannah's hand stroking her hair and Hannah's whispers telling her _yes, just like that,, oh god that's good_ felt a lot like Dexter's. Dexter was in love with Hannah because she was like a mirror to his soul, and she was the only mirror he'd ever believed when she told him his soul was beautiful. Deb loved Hannah because she saw the best parts of her brother reflected in her. 

God, it was sick. 

Maybe if she'd started eating girls out in high school—and there'd been more than one girl who'd gladly have taught her—she wouldn't be in this position. Maybe she could be happily gay with one of her old softball teammates and have a truck and three dogs and her brother could murder people all he'd like and she'd never know because she wouldn't be in love with him. She'd never have fallen in love with Rudy Cooper or Brian Moser and _Dexter_ Moser isn't a name she ever would have heard. Deb saw a lot of Brian in Dexter, these days. That was the sick part. They weren't the same man, not by a long shot, but they _were_ brothers, and Deb had loved Brian or Rudy or—she'd seen Dexter in him. 

She might still be eating out Hannah McKay, if she'd switched to girls way back before everything went to shit. That would be okay, though. Almost okay, at least. Hannah McKay on her own was, _for the most part_ , not the problem. She was murderer, yes, but Deb was in the twisted position she was in because Hannah McKay was _Dexter's_ murderer, and ever since Deb had helped Dexter desecrate a church, his sins had been hers. 

All of them. 

Harrison was fast asleep in the other room. She hoped he was still asleep, anyway. It'd be pretty hard to explain—oh, fuck it. His father killed people. The kid had a life time of disturbing truths ahead of him. The real worry was that he'd say something to his father. They weren't telling Dexter about this, were they? Deb had assumed when she agreed that they weren't going to tell Dexter. Fuck it. _Deb_ wasn't going to tell Dexter. Hannah could do what she wanted. It was her relationship. He'd kept secrets from Deb for years. She could keep a few from him.


End file.
